


Hands

by AlasPoorYorcake



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlasPoorYorcake/pseuds/AlasPoorYorcake
Summary: Before he takes the job, Sans figures he’ll have his hands full working under the Royal Scientist. He comes to learn that Gaster has hands to spare. Sanster, Sans POV, Introspection, Fluff.
Relationships: W. D. Gaster/Sans
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	Hands

* * *

The first thing you learn about your boss is that he’s handsy.

You thought Alphys’ heads-up was just that— a playful warning. Coy, but harmless. 

But then you meet Dr. W.D. Gaster, shake his hand, and it’s like the hand never leaves. Every time he’s in the room, he’s tethered somewhere, always touching or holding something. His hands are never empty, and most of the time, they’re on you or Alphys, tugging at your sleeves or picking loose threads from your lab coats.

It’s not uncomfortable or weird or anything, since skeletons like you don’t tend to suffer proximity issues. Plus, Alphys seems accustomed to it. So you brush it off as harmless. Another special quirk of working under the Royal Scientist.

Then, weeks pass, and you start to notice his hands are on _you_ more often than they’re on Alphys. You catch him several times, staring your way when he thinks you’re not looking, always dodging your eyelights a second too late.

But you don’t mind. You’re still relatively new to the lab, it’s normal. Hell, you’re pretty sure he’s caught you doing the exact same thing to hi—

—to him.

Huh.

The second thing you learn about your boss is that he can’t keep his _extra_ hands to himself.

He conjures the things as often as he breathes, which is every two seconds. They’re useful around the lab, holding papers or scouring for blueprints, but he apologizes for their presence, and especially their eagerness, like they’re a nasty habit or a nervous tic or a gaggle of pests rather than an extension of his magic. Some follow in his wake, picking at his lab coat or perpetually straightening his tie. Others spread to the rooms he enters, like a swarm of fluttering creatures, desperate to touch and grab and be held.

You learn very, very quickly that they love to be held.

You’re a slacker at work— no big secret or surprise to anyone— and in your frequent down-time, you find yourself playing with the things. The opportunities are endless: rock paper scissors, extreme cat’s cradle, patty cake, thumb wars, even horseshoes with the ones with cored palms. 

Of course, the more comfortable you get with the hands, the more comfortable you get around their owner. Previously, Gaster simply used you as an anchor whenever he entered a room, gravitating to you to place hands on your shoulders or tug at your lab coat to show you something. Now you’re the one trailing him around the lab, essentially earning an assistant’s position just by sticking around.

_Sans the Hand_ , Alphys teases you sometimes, _always at his side, doing what he wants without him saying a word_.

You laugh and roll your eyelights, but you’re far from offended. If anything, you’re flattered. You like Gaster’s hands. You like Gaster. You probably even lo—

The second most important thing you learn about your boss is that he has you in good hands.

You’ve never been the most easily handled monster, especially due to your… _fragility_ , but Gaster’s hands have handled worse, and as time goes on, you realize they (and Gaster) have learned to accommodate you just as much as you accommodate them. It’s a punch to the teeth when Gaster invites you to lunch in the greasiest joint in Hotland without any previous conversation about your food preferences, citing the ketchup and grease stains his hands get when tugging at your shirt when you fall asleep in the lab. 

Without prompting, he gets you a joke book for Gyftmas, with dog-eared pages at all the hand puns. 

Then one day he asks to meet Papyrus, and nearly destroys your house playing pretend with his action figures.

Papyrus tells you later that he loves the hands almost as much as you do. More hands for more action figures or bones to throw or shelves to reach or anything else, really. He doesn’t love them as much when they clutter up the kitchen, but Gaster’s clutter fits in seamlessly with your clutter, so he almost doesn’t notice there’s twice as much.

…and that’s really all the confirmation you need, huh?

But Gaster’s biggest tell of all is that he can’t stop conjuring hands when you’re around. It gets to the point where he can’t dismiss them as quickly as they appear, and you carve out sections of your day to tending to them so they’ll let you work in peace. They even start to persist after Gaster finishes walking you home every night. So you devote a portion of your room to the ones that stick around. 

Most of them just start to cling to you, smothering you with pats or thumb-swipes. Sometimes they simply hang off of you like affectionate leeches, desperate for reciprocal affection.

Gaster, of course, can’t stop apologizing. He does it everyday, so much that it’s practically the first thing he says when he enters a room.

_It’s unprofessional_ , he says one day, looking simultaneously half-asleep and caffeine-twitchy and altogether completely miserable. _It’s gotten completely out of hand._

Totally deadpan. Just like that. Out of _hand_.

You snort, trying to keep it in, then dissolve into laughter. But he doesn’t scoff or roll his eyelights. He just sort of stares at you with his lopsided grin, like he doesn’t want you to ever stop laughing. You move closer and take his real hands in yours.

_as long as it doesn’t affect my paycheck,_ you say with a wink, _i love you too._

An eruption of conjured hands engulfs you— a swarm of brimming affection.

The most important thing you learn about your boss, hands down, is that he loves you.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
